


Spiral

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Series: Nadadel [18]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5919403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains





	Spiral

The ale tastes different to anything else he's drunk in his life. Glóin quite likes it, though, and it makes him giggly.

"Can't hold his liquor!" Óin teases, rescuing his mug before he drops it. He sets it on the table and gently tilts up his chin to check on his throat. "Looks a bit better- Oy!" Óin says,catching a hand aimed at his face. "No. Bad. We don't hit people in the face, nadadith."

_"Whyyyy?"_

"Because it's very impolite." Óin says. "Especially to your big brother!"

"My _favourite_ big brother."

"I'm your _only_ big brother, you silly drunken sod." Óin reminds him. He wishes he hadn't been so easily swayed into giving him 2 and a half more cups of ale than he'd originally planned to. He wonders if Balin and Dwalin plan to come over and panics to think what they might think if they see their youngest cousin drunkenly humming a very rude song he's learned somewhere. "Stop that," he says. "That's a very unpleasant song to sing. Where did you even learn it?"

"From you. You came in on your last birthday singing it and wouldn't shut up and Da got annoyed and gave you a wallop on the back of your legs, remember?" 

"No, he didn't. _I_ became an _adult_ on my last birthday! He would never. And he never _ever_ swatted us on our _birthdays_. Except for that time one of us choked on a tomato and he gave a whack on the back to make it come out."

"That was me and it hurt. And he _did_ , because I remember!"

"Yes, nadadith." Óin replies, wanting nothing more than to get the topic done with. He looks down at him and feels himself soften. "I love you. Even though you smell like the tavern."

"You smell like the tavern's _owner_ ," his cheeky brother says, grinning incorrigibly. 

"Mmm. He'll be very happy to learn what you think!" Óin says, brushing a thumb over the thick red stubble on his nadad's face. "You've had too much to drink, you rascal!"

"Nooo.."

"Oh, _yes_ ," Óin tries to disentangle himself but the fuzzy arms keep wrapping themselves around his chest and the little sod is being very unfair, making his eyes large and wistful and sweet in an attempt to make him allow his clinging. And it's working.  Óin sighs, grumbles and rolls his eyes, wondering how he got the misfortune to have the world's clingiest Dwarfling for a brother.

"Nadad?"

"Yes?"

"Why did the Dwarf try and get me?"

Óin thinks. It's a good question and one he doesn't know the answer to. "Well," he says, "That I don't know. But I'm glad he didn't succeed. Besides, he's locked away in the dungeons. He won't come back for you."

"Promise?"

"I swear it. _Nobody_ will hurt you. I won't let them." There's a knock at the door and the elder jumps. He looks down at his sibling and helps him to his feet despite honest-to-Mahal mewls of protest. "You need to go to sleep." Óin says firmly, gently nudging his feet to make him walk up the stairs.

"I'm not a toddler!"

"Unfortunately for me! If you were, I could toss you over my shoulder. But you're a growing boy and I can't cart you around like I used to. Come _on_ , nadadith, Balin will murder me if he discovers I let you have some ale!"

There's a rather long-suffering sigh and he pads up the stairs, swaying slightly, but much more obedient. "I'm not going to sleep, I'm not tired, I'm not a toddler."

"Well, will you at least promise to amuse yourself in as safe a way as possible? Didn't you have a puzzle you wanted to finish?"

"I'll finish it, yes." 

"Good!" Óin finally succeeds in opening the door and kisses his forehead. "Nadadith, if you need me, even a tiny bit, just call for me and I will come up." He means it. In fact he's not entirely sure he wants to leave him all alone now. He gently touches his brother's jawbone, feeling nothing but the thick red growth of hair. He nuzzles his cheek into his hand, just like he did after his beard first started growing properly. The sudden growth had irritated him terribly and it had driven him almost mad to be stopped from itching.

 _'I hate it!'_ he had snapped on more than one occasion. _'It's torture and I hate it! Why must our beards grow?'_

 _'It's what separates Dwarf from Elf.'_ Da had retorted at one point. _'You're growing up, my little hedgehog.'_

 He is growing up. Nonetheless, Óin leaves the bedroom door slightly open before going downstairs.


End file.
